


Secret Admirers

by manglekin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Autism Spectrum, Ballroom Dancing, CURSED TAG, Cuddling & Snuggling, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Embarrassment, F/M, Fights, Jealousy, M/F, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Physical Abuse, Platonic Cuddling, Size Difference, Slow Dancing, Teasing, Tsunderes, Tumblr: Le Classy Caniveau, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, m/f/m, m/m - Freeform, physical fights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 19:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12754263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manglekin/pseuds/manglekin
Summary: Rodney Kapernick meets Pandora Hann at a fancy ball. Pandora has two coworkers who will beat the shit out of anyone that touches her. You can guess what happens next.





	Secret Admirers

The bright lights and golden walls were nothing much to behold in the eyes of someone who attended quite rich events such as this one very often. It was usual behavior to subtly flirt or brag a bit, dance when music was played, maybe even show off skills appropriate- such as when Kaila Bruce and Pandora Hann performed a piano-harp duet during the Multi-Corporation Benefits Night at Ruoban Dining Hall. Pandora was a slim girl, average height, who sported dyed peach hair in two small buns; the girl loved nothing more than to talk for hours on end with an intelligent man about things he found interesting, or if he asked about her, telling him about her musical career which seemed so interesting to her but didn’t hold much of a conversation. And so she was, leaning over a table listening to a millionaire chat her up, not noticing how rude and arrogant he may have sounded to passerbys.   
“-And they fired her the next day. Lucky for me that bluff worked out in my favor and she was too scared to hire a lawyer. Not like she worked there for that long; she probably hadn’t paid off how much it costed to bribe them into hiring her. Then again, they don’t need people like her; they have me. How much more could you want?” He glanced back at her and made eye contact, closing his eyes and stretching, “You’d agree with me, right?”  
“Yes, totally and completely,” she gave a gentle smile, lacing her fingers together and tilting her head a bit to the side, “you’re a master at your skill, why would they have to hire more people for a job you could just do?” The poor girl fed into whatever men said to her, though she enjoyed every moment.  
“I’m glad you have common sense,” There had been more upbeat music playing from the ballroom for a while, and it seemed to have died down into what now was soft, slow piano. “Would you care to have this dance before you’re off?”  
“Oh, yes please!” She didn’t mind she was a few inches taller than him. Her heels made it hard to do a happy skip towards the large room, blushing with joy as he linked their arms and eventually took both hands and examined the length of her dress with them, stopping at her waist.   
“Then let’s not keep them waiting,” He had noticed two tall, lanky men staring at them; moreso at her, like hungry predators. She gave them a smile instead of seeming intimidated; those were her co-workers but didn’t feel it was a detail that should be mentioned. She didn’t want to throw him off, perhaps think they were after her- which they were but she was too oblivious and uninterested to care- and just let him guide her through slowdance. But he had something different in mind, which included nearly picking her up off her feet and sweeping her across the floor, so much so quickly making her dress flow daintily with the speed of his advances. As things slowed down, the man began to feel his head pounding. The music got louder and less of his taste, and he said goodbye to her, leaving out the back exit to account for his “headache”.  
As soon as he sat down, he let out a breath, then drew a steadier, longer one. He focused on keeping them consistent as the cold air halted the sweat forming on his forehead as he wiped it with the handkerchief he always kept in his pocket, running his hands through his hair and pushing up his glasses. He could practically feel the hair on the back of his neck bristling as the feeling of being overwhelmed did not cease. It, even now, was a bit too much for him to think about going back inside. So many people in one space; one that wants to stare directly into his eyes and flirt and chat and touch him; all the bright lights and loud people in the mess hall and- he usually could handle it. He’d grown accustomed to it. But tonight was just a bad night, he guessed, starting to feel slow drops in the uncomfortable state he was in, and he contemplated going back in, leaving from the main exit like any other polite person, and saying goodbye to the people he had met and spoken to.   
A foreign hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, slamming a knee into his back and causing him to fall forward in surprise. Another person, considerably more set on knocking his shit, kicked him full force- as hard as the dude could. Before a reaction was possible, the man was laying on the cold blacktop, his shoulder in a death grip- he was sure it was dislocated- as he was forced to take each kick and each taunt and each spit of venom. He shouldn’t have talked to that girl. Her ‘co-workers’ were absolute psychopaths- they’d hurt anyone who looked at her and at this point she still hadn’t noticed and lead the innocent man into some sort of death trap. As a kick was delivered straight to his shoulder, he shrieked, trembling visibly and curling inward upon himself, the half-locked exit door was kicked nearly off it’s hinges. There was a few seconds pause, an angry shout, and the sound of a crunch followed by several kicks, punches, the sound of running, stumbling away.   
“Kapernick,” The tall man stretched and took a knee beside him, “Can you stand?”  
“No,” Rodney managed to spit out, shuddering as another sharp pain shot through his shoulder and he gripped harder, starting to feel himself begin to sweat.   
“Alright. I’ve got you.” Mello grabbed his by the shoulder, the other hand on his opposite arm, yanking it swiftly back into position. Rodney did not expect this nor was it welcomed in the slightest, eliciting a sharp scream of pain and another much more noticeable tremor wrack his body. He couldn’t help but curse, as unprofessional as the ugly words were.  
“God damn,” He grit his teeth and slowly took his hand off the shoulder, now back in place. Rodney took his handkerchief out of his pocket again and as he sat up, wiped his nose that he could feel was starting to bleed. His glasses fell further down the bridge of his nose.  
“So,” Mello sat down next to him and stretched, “What in hell did you do this time?”  
“Nothing,” Rodney stammered bitterly, “They’re sick. All because their girlfriend decided to talk to me for a few minutes.”  
“You don’t have to worry about them. They’re like twigs. I could snap them in half if they try to start anything again. I nearly did.” Mello cracked his neck and sighed, standing back up, “Alright, you’re coming with me. Get up, come on,”  
Rodney did as he was told, straightening his tie and tucking his shirt into his pants, jumping nearly 10 feet into the air when Mello yanked on one of his suspenders. Something about the bathroom, and two minutes later Rodney was leaning up against a pristinely manufactured sink, most likely made out of real amethyst, as Mello ran the water of another, wetting a rag.  
“You’re lucky I saved your ugly ass,” Mello retorted, “oh, and your glasses are falling off.” these were intended to make Rodney blush out of embarrassment, and he grinned when he got the reaction he wanted, as the short man grabbed the wet rag from his large hands and began to wipe off the scuffs on his face, the blood still dripping from his nose, albeit slower, then proceeded to take off his overcoat and sigh.   
“I guess I’ll need a new one.”  
“Ever heard of a washer and dryer?” Mello nonchalantly commented back, checking something that seemed ever so important on his phone.   
“Why should I just re-use the same shit if it’s gotten dirty?” He shrugged, adjusting his belt.  
“If you could stop undressing it’d be better on my eyes. Thanks.” He stifled the smile that appeared whenever he realized he successfully pissed Rodney off.  
“You aren’t even looking at me!” He interjected, trying to get a reaction out of Mello, crossing his arms and then examining them for scuffs or marks on his white dress shirt.  
“If I did i’d go blind.” Mello then stated, still showing no emotion in his words, “you done yet?” Rodney pulled back on his overcoat and looked down at the legs of his pants, dusting them off and nodding.  
“Why? Are you considering trying to get me to go somewhere else? Because frankly I-”  
“Why would you assume I want to be around you more than I already have to be?” Mello started laughing when he saw Rodney’s expression; very annoyed and very disgruntled.   
“Jesus christ, are you finished Mello?”  
“Maybe.” He patted Rodney on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow, while Rodney, at his side, explained in a slightly awkward, quite pained way that he couldn’t make it for late night pizza and watching sports he didn’t understand for the sake of his best friend, that he was being set off by things he was normally fine with and didn’t want to embarrass himself if he’d happen to have a meltdown. Mello was fine with this, ruffling Rodney’s hair and asking him to think about it. They said good-byes to the people they’d met, the final destination being cars parked next to each other and not so much as a parting of ways as they knew they’d see one another in the morning.   
Though Rodney thought on it while trying to go to bed an hour early, he’d much rather be in the comfortable presence of a friend than all alone where it seemed cold and lonelier than usual.   
“Hey!” He shouted, hanging up his coat and closing Mello’s door.  
“Hey, didn’t think you were coming?” Mel had his mouth stuffed with pizza and Rodney had to tell him to shut up and swallow before talking or else he might vomit. Mello told him to go fuck himself. He gagged.  
“I just thought-”  
“No, shh, I don’t care. Watch,” mello pointed to his TV. Rodney didn’t understand sports, but he especially didn’t understand football. So he curled up in a blanket with a nice texture, running his fingers over the inner lining as he fell against Mello’s side, nonchalantly staring at the wall, and Mello, realizing this, put one arm comfortably around the very small man at his side.  
“Get off.” Rodney barked, “stop touching me.” an empty threat that Mello knew was just that, so he pulled him even closer and he could see his face start to heat up in annoyance as he realized for the third (at the least) time today how powerless he was.   
“Yeah yeah, check that shit out though-”  
“--language!”  
“Didn’t you see? He got a touchdown! Are you not paying attention?”  
“No, just not caring.” He closed his eyes and lay comfortably on the side of Mello’s upper stomach.   
“You sleeping there, rat?” Mello patted Rodney’s side gently with the arm already around him.  
“Yeah. Now shut up.”  
“Gotcha.”


End file.
